EMILY'S POV
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Perhaps he's right, because the thought of touching myself in front of him suddenly seems absurd. I could finish myself when he leaves, but his daring stare makes me want to. I want to show him that I don't need him, that I don't need a man. I can take care of myself, I have done it for years. He thinks that I need him, but perhaps it's time to show him otherwise. I curl my arm, resting my hand on my chest, fiddling with my silver chain before my hand slides in between my breasts .
I don't take my eyes off him as my fingers slide down my own body, and even though it isn't as electrifying as when he does it, it still does the job of making me excited. I slip my fingers into my soaked panties, and I inhale sharply when my index and middle finger slide over my clit. My back
